


pudding 'n pie

by naruhoe



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Dubious Consent, Georgie being a prick, M/M, Oral Sex, bigby whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naruhoe/pseuds/naruhoe
Summary: Georgie cuts Bigby a deal.





	pudding 'n pie

"Fine!" Georgie throws up his hands in a show of exasperation. Bigby raises a single eyebrow, still poised to wreck the DJ booth. The Sheriff has placed most of his weight on one foot, the other serving only as balance while his shirt pulls taut about his broad shoulders; big, calloused hands wrapped about the grip of the paddle that reads 'crowd control' in messy black sharpie. Georgie licks his lips. He looks nervous. The paddle dips dangerously towards the tinted glass partition of the DJ booth, and Georgie makes a sharp sound. "Alright, Wolf- we get it! You break things! _Okay_!" He yells angrily, brogue thickening with his obvious indignation at the situation. Bigby growls. It's a threatening sound, deep and snarly. "Key. Now." Georgie's eyes, dark and sullen, flit from the blunt wedge of the 'crowd control' paddle up the length of Bigby's arm. His eyebrows furrow, then, but they lift almost immediately, and he folds his arms, turning around in a casual manner that provokes another of those threatening growls from Bigby. _Eureka_.

"You have to understand, Bigby- I'm a businessman. I can't give away shit for free." Georgie says, dropping into the chair he'd been occupying before Bigby arrived. It's an ugly, vaguely uncomfortable-looking thing, the faded blue upholstery of which is almost worn through at the arms. Georgie positively _lounges_ in it, propping his jaw up on the palm of one hand and crossing his legs primly. Bigby is oblivious to the slow once-over of Georgie's eyes over his body, yanking the paddle aggressively away from the booth to brandish it at the other Fable. "I will fucking _demolish_ this place if that key isn't in my hand in the next minute, Georgie, and when I'm done, I'll move on to you." Bigby Wolf snarls, stalking around the chair and leaning aggressively over Georgie, who smirks insolently up at the frustrated Sheriff.

"Try me." Georgie drawls. "Even if you tear every damn inch of this club apart, you'll never find what you're looking for. You think I'd tell you after you had your fun? You're dead wrong, Wolf." A low, dangerous rumble has begun to vibrate from Bigby's chest, but heedless to the danger, Georgie leans forward,  uncrossing his legs and placing both elbows on his knees. Bigby watches him with angry eyes. "However... what if I said I had a little- mm, _compromise_ \- that could avoid all that unpleasantness?" Georgie's knees fall open in none-too-subtle suggestion, too blatant for even Bigby to miss the implications of. Bigby watches the gesture with a measure of confusion tinged frustration, his mouth opening as he prepares to say something, perhaps a refusal, perhaps another threat, but Georgie beats him to the punch. "Don't think too hard, Bigby. It's not complicated." He snaps, but composes himself again, voice gentling. " _I_ get my entertainment, and _you_ walk out of here with whatever the hell you want  _without_ smashing up my business. Win fucking win."

Bigby scowls. "And _what_ exactly is it that you get from this?" He asks dubiously, hackles still raised. Georgie sits back in his chair, smirking. "Can't say that I've had the Big Bad Wolf as my bitch before, can I? But then again, only Snow White has that privilege, right?" Bigby's answering snarl causes Georgie to raise both hands, but his face is, as usual, utterly unapologetic. "So do we have a deal or not, _Sheriff_? A man gets tired of waiting, you know. Best hurry before little Georgie here loses _all_ interest." He says, with an ominous glance downward. 

There's a long moment of silence, interrupted only by the tapping of Georgie's foot against the floor. When Bigby finally gives his answer, he doesn't look happy about it. His hands are balled into tight fists, the skin of his knuckles stretched white over the bones beneath, and his mouth is a grim line. "Fine." Wolf says. Georgie's face splits into a pleased smile. "Excellent." He purrs, legs spreading wide as he drops all pretenses. "C'mere. Give daddy his paddle like a good boy, won't you?" Georgie says, with a whistle of the sort one would use to call a dog. Bigby drops the paddle where he stands with an insolent 'thok', watching Georgie’s every move with burning honey eyes.

Georgie pats his lap, smirking. "Go on, then." The reluctance is evident in Bigby's every move, from the stiff way he takes another step closer to how he awkwardly drops down to his knees. Georgie only spreads his legs wider. He seems to be enjoying it, the bastard. After an extra-long moment of hesitation, though, Georgie exhales an annoyed puff of air. "Jesus _Christ_ , Bigby- it's like you've never had your cock sucked before. Unzip me, for god's sake, before I combust from anticipation." Bigby shuffles slightly closer on his knees. Undoubtedly, there will be a layer of dust coating the knees of the Sheriff's slacks by the time he is done. Nose wrinkling, Bigby reaches out, calloused fingers tentatively brushing the dark, gabardine fabric of Georgie's pants. Before Bigby can withdraw, however, Georgie sighs loudly and grabs the wolf's hand himself, spreading the fingers wider and forcing them against his groin. 

"Honestly- it's like a guy has to do everything himself these days." Georgie grumbles, keeping Bigby's hand trapped there as he brusquely unzips his fly and pops the button open. Bigby growls, batting Georgie's hand away as he proprietarily scoots in closer. He is equally brusque as he palms Georgie's erection, earning only a grunt in the way of reactions. His nose wrinkles. Georgie smells musky- bitter, too, in an organic kind of way. He recognizes the thick accompanying scent of arousal, and his nose wrinkles a bit more. He could really go for a cigarette right now, a Huff 'n Puff, so that he wouldn't be able to smell the bitter musk of Georgie's arousal anything over the cheap tobacco and nicotine. But he's here now, and so is Georgie, and Bigby needs that key. So he gets down to it: massages Georgie to full hardness using a rougher hand than he usually would for himself (Georgie doesn't seem to mind anyways), then slides him out of his underwear. Georgie's a decent size, not as big as Bigby, at any rate, but not small either. Still- now that he's faced with all six inches of it, pierced just below the head and absolutely covered in tattoos, of course, the prospect seems a bit daunting. Bigby can't remember the last time he's given head.

Seeming to notice his trepidation, Georgie sticks his lower lip out in a mocking imitation of a pout. "Aww- Wolf's scared. All bluster and no bite, aren't you?" Bigby’s eyes snap up to Georgie’s at this, and he tightens his grip around the other’s erection to the point of pain, taking satisfaction in the hiss this draws from Georgie. "I'd be careful of which insults you choose." Bigby says, feeling more than seeing Georgie stiffen when he opens his mouth and takes the head of the other fable's cock into the wet heat. He allows his teeth, unnaturally sharp canines and all, to graze Georgie's tender flesh. Georgie fairly jumps in his seat, fingers drawing into claws as he hisses. "Watch the fucking teeth, Wolf!" He spits as if furious, but Bigby knows better. He smells the musky scent of Georgie's arousal thicken, sees how Georgie's dark brown irises are eclipsed by his pupils; hears the jump in the other's pulse. But Bigby feels nothing at all, except for a vague disgust. So that's how it is. Slow and careful not to let his teeth scrape against the intrusion in his mouth again, Bigby bobs his head, ignoring the frustrated tensing of Georgie's muscles as he gets into a rhythm.

When he feels a hand alight on the back of his head, Bigby cannot help but let a growl slip, vibrations traveling from the back of his throat to Georgie's cock. To his distaste, Georgie groans in satisfaction, and the fingers stroke at his hair like he's one of Georgie's girls.  He's content to let it slip, if only because he can feel Georgie drawing nearer for it, but then the bastard starts _talking_. "Didn't think you had it in you, Wolf. Shit- I didn't even know you knew _how_ to do this, but imagine my surprise when the Big Bad Wolf gets down on his knees all meek." His fingers tighten in Bigby's hair. Bigby digs his fingers into Georgie's knees, another low growl warning Georgie to _shut the fuck up_ , but he keeps running his damn mouth. "I’m almost jealous, I must say— it just isn’t right that dear Snow White gets this mouth all to herself.” Georgie huffs a little laugh as his hips stutter. Bigby thinks of the shithole bathroom in his apartment and tries not to let his nails extend into claws (unsuccessfully, for the most part, given the tiny holes he's now inflicting on the knees of Georgie's pants); wonders when the last time he bought toothpaste was. He has a feeling he'll want to brush his teeth after this. He tries to isolate his mind because if he loses his temper _now_ and breaks Georgie's nose, there's no way he's getting that damn key except for off of the other's corpse, and _that_ would be inappropriate. A small corner of Bigby's mind scoffs at that. How could _that_ possibly be more inappropriate than _this_? Another corner of his mind is roaring for him to do it; to beat the twelve colours of hell out of the bastard for even mentioning Snow.

"Nothing to say, Wolf?" Georgie pants, and yanks Bigby out of his thoughts with a painful tug on the back of his hair. Bigby digs his claws in, and they are claws now; the blood is pumping through his veins, the rage beginning a slow boil. He can smell Georgie's arousal spike when the bastard looks down and finds that Bigby is looking right back with glowing yellow eyes. Fucking pervert. It is over quickly after that. Georgie throws his head back and curses a blue streak, yanking strands of hair out of Bigby's skull as he lets go and shoves the Wolf back, taking his cock in hand and pumping it furiously. Though most of it lands upon the floor, an incoherent sound of rage escapes Bigby when he's spattered with several drops of semen where he landed on his ass on the floor after Georgie pushed him off. The air smells like sex, and the only sounds are Georgie's harsh breathing and Bigby's snarly panting. He closes his eyes, wiping the back of his arm across his mouth as he grimaces at the taste. When he opens his eyes again, they no longer bear that dangerous yellow glow.

Georgie, sprawled in the chair, still hasn't bothered to zip himself back up. Hans appears with several towels- they smell like fresh laundry detergent, but Bigby refuses to take one. Georgie accepts one. ("Fuck off, now." He demands, wiping himself down, and Hans quietly disappears back into the back rooms, casting a wide-eyed look at the Sheriff, who has since gotten to his feet and is already bent over a cigarette, the tip of which is glowing cherry red.) Bigby exhales a cloud of cigarette smoke from chapped, swollen lips, and fixes Georgie with a baleful stare, not bothering to uncurl from over his cigarette. “Key.” Bigby repeats, voice even more gravelly than usual. He is out of patience and clearly hasn’t gotten any pleasure from the affair.

Tossing the towel to the side, Georgie stands, a key materializing in his hand. He takes his time ambling over to Bigby, but holds the key out bow first. However, as Bigby moves to take it, Georgie leans in, smile wide and insincere. "I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, _Sheriff_." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! I’d so appreciate your comments or kudos!


End file.
